my apartment!
by Lonelygoatherd
Summary: "'Le-lemme in...my house." The voice was distinctly garbled and slurred, and the pounding was not with the deliberate anger or hostility that characterizes a robbery or threat, but the half-assed carelessness of someone preoccupied or out of it...or drunk." Hayffie AU- Haymitch is drunk, and tries to break into Effie's apartment, based off an idea from a Tumblr post. Oneshot! :)


_**A.N. Saw this AU prompt on Tumblr: "tried breaking into my flat when they were drunk bc they thought it was theirs au" and thought I'd give it a Hayffie-go!**_

It was late into the evening, 11:30 pm, and Effie was just settling down after a long day of secretarial work. A long soak in the tub, a chilled glass of red wine, and a promising episode of SNL with Jimmy Fallon hosting, she was ready and willing to enjoy her night- she'd have to be up and at 'em again by 9 tomorrow, so she was trying to enjoy her night as much as possible. Briefly, her thoughts flashed to the day ahead- the documents that needed to be typed up, causing her fingers to ache, the reports that needed to be filed, and the drudgery that was the mind numbingly boring office of Dr. A. Schmidt- working for a doctor researching liver failure was surely more rewarding than it felt.

It was five past 12- her wine glass drained, Effie's eyes were just fluttering shut when she was instantly on her guard- a loud noise, indistinguishable, but loud enough to wake her up, had just occurred by the door. She sat waiting, her heart pounding in fear. A break-in? A robbery? She didn't own any weapons, especially not any firearms. Racking her brain for some means of protection, she sprinted, in a manner that one could consider comical in any other situation, to the kitchen, trying her hardest to open her utensils drawer in such a quiet manner that whomever, or whatever, was outside, would not hear her. Tentatively, she grabbed the largest knife she had and cautiously made her way to the door. She stood there for God knows how long, holding her knife like it was the most precious thing in the world, and waited with baited breath, mostly for the silence to continue, hoping it would. It stretched on, and it was just as she was letting her guard down that she was once again startled, this time by a voice, accompanied by a pounding.

"Le-lemme in...my house." The voice was distinctly garbled and slurred, and the pounding was not with the deliberate anger or hostility that characterizes a robbery or threat, but the half-assed carelessness of someone preoccupied or out of it...or drunk.

A loud jingling was heard, as well as a dull thud and a gasp of pain. Deciding whatever was outside might not have been much of a threat as previously thought, Effie stood up on her tiptoes to look out of her peephole. It took her eyes a second to adjust, but what she saw was most certainly unexpected.

A mass of tousled, dark hair first caught her eye. After a few more seconds, Effie made out the shape of a man strewn about on the floor, a tangled mass of limbs struggling to get up. A silver set of keys ('the jingling noise!') were clutched in his shaking hand.

_Most likely he's inebriated and forgotten which apartment is his. Sad, but not impossible- they do all look the same, after all. _She got off her tiptoes, and reached to unlock the door. When she opened it, the man fell, due to the lack of door (he'd been struggling to regain his footing), and completely crashed into her doorway. Effie was offended- how could one completely lose their inhibitions like that?

"W-why you in m'house?" The slurring was just getting worse at this point.

"Sir, I do hate to inform you, but you must be too drunk to realize that this is **my **apartment, **not **yours. So..." Here Effie stalled at her words. What should she say next?

"So...please leave." Her abruptness was due to the oddness of the situation, not to mention the rude intrusion of her space and waste of her time. Why couldn't he go be drunk somewhere else?

"I w-". Here the man attempted to get up, and failed once again. "Would but seein' this m'house I not goin' to. You getout." Here he lazily pointed a finger at Effie, dropping it the second that it was so quickly raised.

She had to put up with this absurdity at such a late hour?

"No. This is rude and uncomely and I would like for you to leave." She tried grasping him by the shoulders, to drag or push him through the doorway, but this proved to be a wrong move, as this caused him to get angry and start thrashing about, yelling a few obscenities.

"**Excuse me**," Effie angrily spat out, after his little tirade was over, "**but I would be more than willing to call the police if you don't vacate my apartment within the next few moments." **The sheer terror that was Effie when she was upset over something would never fail to frighten any entity, and this strange, drunken neighbor of hers was not too intoxicated to get the message.

"Allll...alrightyyyy. Message received, m'lady. Just...can you tell me if...if this in't 408, thennnn where is?"

Mmmm, very close neighbors indeed. How unfortunate. Directing him outside, and pointing to five doors down the hall, Effie was hoping that this would be the last of any shenanigans this man would try to, inadvertently, pull.

* * *

The next morning Effie was greeted to a heavy, constant knocking at her door, five minutes before her alarm was due to go off at 8:15. If it hadn't been for the caller's persistence, she would have ignored it to indulge her rest. As it stood, she got out of bed, pulled on her fuzzy pink robe, and walked towards the door, in that clumsy way we do after sleeping.

She opened it to find a man with tousled dark brown hair, tired blue eyes, and a (was it shameful? guilty?) half-smile on his face. The same man from last night.

_Oh God. Here we go._

"I just uh..." Here he stumbled off, rubbing his neck and looking away from the already brief eye contact he'd held with Effie.

"Wanted to apologize for the absolutely chaotic and rude manner in which you entered my apartment last night?" Effie eyed him, but not with malice, nor contempt. She could tell from his disheveled appearance- rumpled clothes, bloodshot eyes, five o'clock shadow, that he most likely struggled with alcoholism. She didn't want to lessen the situation, but didn't want to be an ass about it.

"Yeah, that. It's uh, not the first time it's happened before, and I'm sorry you had to deal with it."

Effie smiled. At least he was coming to apologize, even when embarrassed. Most people would be too flustered to think about coming back to explain themselves.

"Well, no harm's occurred." She shot him one of her signature Effie grins. "All's water under the bridge, as they say."

She was just thinking of a polite way to end the awkward encounter when he spoke up again.

"I've been going to AA meetings." Here he averted his eyes again. "They help but uh, y'know, they only do so much. Sometimes being there just makes me feel even weaker than before and uh, I go overboard with the drinking. It's messed up, I know."

Surprisingly, she did know. Therapy had a strange hold on her, as well. Years and years of intensely emotional meetings with varying counselors had only done so much in helping her to recover from her trauma. They gave her building blocks and tools, but at the end of the day everything was up to her: the metaphorical balls were in her court, and she never knew what to do with them.

Effie took his hand. "I get off of work at 5 today, I think you should swing by around near then, say 6? We could get coffee?" He looked completely taken aback by this, but quickly shook that off to reflect a more neutral, collected face.

"That uh, that sounds good. I suppose I'll see you then..."

"Effie."

"Haymitch." He shook her hand. "I'll see you then, Effie." With that, he took his leave. Effie shut the door, smiling about the whole situation and the new acquaintance she'd made.


End file.
